My Impatience is like a fish

I want to see a star from a high place, not necessarily a mountain. Maybe a tree limb. To sit quietly, no kicking my leg or swaying my body like I have a baby in my arms. That baby is grown up and learning to fly fish thousands of miles away on a lake where sometimes a loon floats, usually absent on a cloudy night. Maybe the loons are pissed off that no one will adore their stripes without starlight or that their cries may not break the sound barrier. Maybe stars guide the fish, whole schools wriggling the way I do sitting on a rocking chair on this dock, tapping my fingers as if the fish in the pond are goldfish that know the merit of sprinkles from fingers over waves. As if my wiggle or jiggle has some meaning to light on water or deep currents. If I sit and look long enough, maybe the clouds will blow away. I could be the fish in that lake. And the loon might come.

An Vermont poet with a deep love for writing haiku, poetry with feminist and eco themes. Ocean's Laughter (Aldrich Press 2016) combines lyric and eco-poetry to look at change over time in a small town on Oregon's north coast. Urban Wild (a chapbook from Finishing Line Press, 2014) highlights how people and wildlife interact in urban habitat. Broadfork Farm (The Poetry Box) is love poetry for a the creatures and people of a small organic farm in Trout Lake, Washington. In 2018 Antrim House released How I Learned To Be White -- the poetry of introspection into white privilege and Knoll's work to live more fully in a multicultural world. How I Learned To Be White received the Gold Prize for Poetry Book Category for Motivational Poetry in the Human Relations Indie Book Prize for 2018. Website: triciaknoll.com